


Terms of Employment

by Renai_chan



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: But He's About To Find Out, Come Eating, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't worry though, Eggsy is the Office Slut, Everyone Is An Asshole, Everyone knows it, Except For Eggsy, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gangbang, Humiliation, It All Gets Resolved In The End, M. Night Shyamalan Was Here, M/M, Multi, Sexual Harrassment, face fucking, happy endings, mild objectification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7508317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy's always feared for his position at Kingsman because of his failure in the last candidate test. Harry makes sure he understands that his fears are completely unfounded.</p><p>So long as he agrees to one condition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terms of Employment

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw [this prompt](http://darkkingsmanblockparty.tumblr.com/post/147241938176/prompt-eggsy-notices-hes-getting-a-lot-of) on Dark Kingsman Block Party:
> 
>  
> 
> _Eggsy notices he’s getting a lot of unwanted attention around Kingsman, some lewd jokes/remarks that seem not too obvious, but bother him. He notices Roxy is also a target of sexual harassment, but he’s getting more blatant ones. Eggsy finally decides to report this behavior to Harry/Arthur when someone pinches his arse. Harry calls a meeting to (Eggsy thinks) make it stop, but it ends with Eggsy being passed around and fucked by the Knights (Harry watches or joins in at the very end)._
> 
>  
> 
> This fic is a result of that XD

It wasn’t as if Eggsy would have said _no_ if they had asked because, let’s face it, the knights were a veritable buffet of man candy that could have quenched possibly every kind of thirst. They were the epitome of human excellence in all aspects of life and were, collectively, the single most badass group of people that Eggsy was impossibly fortunate to be a part of.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? They hadn’t _asked_. 

They had _taken_ with double entendres, subtle innuendos, and murmured side comments that made Eggsy reflect on and be ashamed of himself for all the times he’d done the same to the birds down in the estates. They weren’t as crass as Eggsy and his mates had been, that was a given because these were men of class, but the implication was there all the same, and though he’d at first found it flattering, now, it _grated_ on him.

He could have handled it. He could have ignored the near catcalls, the blatant appreciation for his body, the explicit praise for his honeypots. He’d ignored negative attention before as a chav, and he could do so now as a gentleman, but the straw that broke the camel’s back had been when Tristan cornered him in the ballroom hallway, backed him up against the wall, and gave his arse a firm grope with a murmured, “I’d just had the fortune of viewing your Abu Dhabi mission, Galahad. I have to say, I’d love to have you on your knees for me just like that.” 

Eggsy had gaped at him in disbelief, shoved him back, and stormed to Arthur’s office, unloading all of his thoughts on the past few months to his mentor. Harry had frowned, not at him, Eggsy understood, but at the situation and immediately called for a Round Table meeting at the earliest convenience of all the knights.

So a day later, Eggsy sat on Harry’s right, watching the knights who were in London at the time filter into the room and the holograms of Percival, Geraint, and Bedivere, who were on international missions, flicker into view. He caught Roxy’s eye, and she gave him a small smile before seating herself in her place and putting back on the same stoic facade all the knights, Eggsy included, wore.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Harry said, rising as he spoke, when everyone had settled. The knights said nothing in return, all having noticed the simmering tension in the atmosphere. If Eggsy weren’t a knight himself, he would have fidgeted in his seat, knowing that he was the catalyst of such tension. Once more, he flicked a look at Roxy who didn’t see it because she was watching Harry. 

Harry continued as if there were no such tension at all. “The other day, Galahad approached me to raise a concern of his that I believe, as we are finally on the precipice of calming the furor of V-Day, is of the right time to address.” They all nodded in agreement and understanding, but Eggsy only frowned, confused. 

The right time? What had V-Day to do with any of this?

Harry turned to address him. “Eggsy, as we all very well know, you failed the final Kingsman test--”

Eggsy’s blood suddenly froze in his veins.

This was it, he realized, all thoughts on his own issues put in the backseat. This was the moment he’d known was going to happen ever since Harry had called him back to the mansion after V-Day, telling him--for some unexplained reason--that he was the new Galahad. He hadn’t questioned it then, too relieved and too ecstatic that he had been then, but now he realized he should have. This was the moment where they were going boot him out of the club and tell him it had all been temporary because they had needed the staff then and now they didn’t.

“--But the Round Table decided to elect you to become part of us despite it. It’s an unprecedented decision that none of us have yet to regret.” The words were pretty and reassuring, but there was a ‘but’ hovering on the horizon. “But--” There it was. “--there was a condition for your exception that is now to be put into effect.” Eggsy stared up at him, waiting in confusion and not a little bit of alarm for all the dots to connect. They were drifting from the issue he had raised and were only raising new issues to address.

“That being?” he prompted.

Harry’s mouth curled into a slow smile that, when paired with his narrowed eyes, make him appear sinister and self-satisfied, like the proverbial cat that had finally caught the canary. 

“‘That’ being your frankly ridiculous arse.”

Eggsy blinked.

“My what?” he asked because Harry couldn’t _possibly_ have said what Eggsy thought he said.

Harry leaned over, caging Eggsy against the back of his chair with one hand on the backrest and the other tipping Eggsy’s chin up. His eyes were still half-lidded and sparkling with amused satisfaction, and Eggsy was pinned beneath them. “Lovely boy,” he purred. “You are an excellent agent--any one of us here would vouch for that--but our rules have held true for generations of agents, no matter how much promise we find in a candidate. To break such traditions would require extraordinary recompense. In this case, we are willing to do so.” His smile broadened. “But only if you submit yourself to us.” 

Eggsy's heart suddenly started thudding frantically in his chest and his body shook when he glanced around the room to find them all watching him with cool composure and heated eyes. 

He met Roxy’s last and, in a trembling voice, asked, “Rox?”

She answered, “They aren’t wrong, Eggsy.” Her voice held a touch of affection, but her eyes also gleamed with the same _want_ as all of them. “And you forget I’ve seen you naked more times than I’ve seen any other man in my life. I’ve been wanting to ride your cock since the first time I saw it.”

Eggsy swallowed down the feeling of betrayal and then glanced up at Harry. “And… And if I don’t?”

He stroked the bone of Eggsy’s cheek with his thumb, displaying all the tenderness and the claimed permission of a lover. “You’re well enough in pocket and status that you need not fear for the welfare of your family, and we would be willing to assist you in finding suitable alternate employment if necessary, but if you refuse, it shall constitute the end of your employment and association with Kingsman.”

And that… that didn’t sit well with Eggsy. 

He loved his work, he loved going on missions, he was _good_ at what he did in a way that he wasn’t as good in anything else. He couldn’t imagine simply _walking away_ from it all. The pay and all the fringe benefits were almost secondary in his desire to stay. He couldn’t imagine life after Kingsman, mediocre at best in comparison. It was just… Inconceivable.

Harry’s eyes seemed to light up and the smile on his face widen when Eggsy’s eyes flickered back up into his. 

“What… What do I have to do?” Eggsy asked.

Harry pushed himself away and reseated himself in his chair at the head of the table, reclining against it almost with triumph and the easy acceptance of the inevitability of Eggsy’s concession. 

Without taking his eyes off of him, he said, “Take off your clothes.”

Eggsy balked at the order. “ _Here_?” he gaped, shooting another quick glance about the room and quickly cataloguing not just the other agents’ eyes on him, but also their glasses that may or may not be recording and transmitting. 

To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure what he felt about either notion.

“Yes, Eggsy. Here,” Harry responded calmly. No one made any motion or sound to overturn the command. As before, they continued to watch him with heated, and now expectant, gazes.

Finding no support to the contrary, Eggsy lifted a trembling hand to the button of his jacket. He found Roxy’s gaze, tender on him and somewhat reassuring. She nodded approvingly and gave him a small smile, and despite her betrayal earlier, he found the wherewithal to continue because of it. He had to stand to shrug off his jacket and when he did, beside him, Caradoc pulled his seat away, leaving him standing in his shirt sleeves and a little disoriented.

“Go on,” Percival, from beside Roxy, urged.

He swallowed and worked off his tie, dropping it on the floor by his feet. His belt went in the same way, curling up where it fell like a sleeping snake. His fingers grew cold while his face heated when he urged each button of his shirt out of its hole. He’d never been particularly embarrassed about his physique before, not even when he had to perform on honeypots in front of his handler and whomever needed to see, but here, with no lives at stake, no intel to be gleaned, no advantage to be gained, he felt shame creep up his neck.

He also felt arousal start to pool low in his gut.

It was probably that that motivated him to continue then, more than the threat against his job did.

He shrugged off his shirt in one quick motion, baring himself to their hunger for him.

In one sense, it was empowering, to be wanted unanimously by this group of powerful people, people who could have anyone they wanted in their beds: millionaires, royalty, actors, it didn’t matter. And they wanted /him/.

“Stop,” Geraint ordered. Eggsy’s attention snapped to him, wary and eager in equal measures for the consequences of such order. The other man said, “Play with your nipples,” and Eggsy nearly _whined_ in humiliation.

“I can’t. _Please_ ,” he tried to protest. It would be different, he knew, if it was with a lover, in the confines of a bedroom, private and expected, but here at the Round Table, all by himself, it was humiliating. Beyond it.

“ _Galahad_ ,” Gawain reprimanded, a warning in the use of his code name, so Eggsy bit his lip and lifted his right hand to his left nipple, brushing over it with his thumb before squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes fell shut as if that would ward away the shame he felt when a moan fell out of his mouth.

“Both, Galahad,” Caradoc added to Geraint’s command, and Eggsy did so with only a small noise of protest. 

One hand on each nipple, he rolled them between his fingertips, rubbing and pinching and squeezing, all with the knowledge of ignominy of it at the forefront of his mind until hitching breaths disguising his sobs were interspersed with his moans and his cock throbbed madly in the confines of his underwear.

“Very good, Galahad,” Geraint murmured, giving him permission to stop. “Now take off the rest.”

He opened his eyes to find the agents still sat in their same positions, almost like they were at a mission briefing rather than a fucking live show. It would have been easier if he’d seen them pleasuring themselves as they made him do, but they didn’t.

The flush on his face burned as his trousers and pants slid down his legs at once, catching the head of his turgid cock and making it slap against his belly. He glanced about the room for further guidance, but for a long moment, they all remained silent, simply raking their eyes over his naked body, so he turned to Arthur for guidance, asking, “Harry?”

“Sir,” was Harry’s answer, eyes leaving Eggsy’s cock to find his face. Eggsy whimpered softly at the implication as Harry explained, “Anywhere else, it’s Harry or Arthur or Geraint or Roxy, but here, like this, it’s ‘sir.’”

Eggsy bit his lip to stifle the involuntary sounds he couldn’t seem to stop and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he agreed.

“Good boy,” Harry answered and then looked to Roxy who put a tube down in the middle of the table. Eggsy knew immediately what is was and surmised quickly after what they wanted him to do. Roxy smiled, a mischievous little thing.

“It’s for them, not me,” she tilted her head at everyone else. “I have something else for you to do.”

“Rox…” Eggsy pleaded.

“Ma’am,” Roxy corrected almost primly so that Eggsy’s jaw snapped shut.

“Yes, ma’am,” he demurred instead and then glanced at the tube of lube, unwilling to take the initiative.

“It won’t bite,” Tristan teased, an eyebrow arched high and a gorgeous, pleased smile on his face. “Open yourself up for us, baby. Turn around and bend over so we can see.” Eggsy made another small noise of protest, but did as he was told anyway.

He picked the lube off of the table and turned to the chair Caradoc had pushed a few paces away. He carefully slathered a pair of fingers with slick and, after a second of hesitation, bent over and bared himself to them. He shut his eyes once more and bit his lip, and then he brought his hand to his hole.

A finger went in quickly and easily. It wasn’t a hardship because Eggsy had taken male lovers before and was used to the sensation of things going into his arse, but Gawain called out, “Slowly now, Galahad.” He almost thought it was because the agent worried about him, but Gawain proved him wrong by adding, “Play with yourself, boy. Show us how you enjoy it.”

There wasn’t a protest he knew that would change their minds, and so he only did as he was told.

He hitched a knee up onto the seat of the chair and arched his back to tilt his arse out at them. There were appreciative murmurs that bolstered his confidence to spread himself open further and fuck himself deeply with his finger. He moaned the result of such action.

When the novelty of a finger faded, he pressed the second one in and drew a long, low moan out of himself. He pumped them in and out slowly, getting himself used to the sensation before scissoring the fingers apart to stretch his hole open.

“Lovely creature,” he heard Bedivere murmur, crisp as anything even through the hologram, and Eggsy couldn’t put the blame on the fingers in his arse for the goosebumps on his skin. If his arse tilted out further, if his moans grew louder, if he felt more eager to obey their commands, it only resulted in unanimous appreciation.

The tube of lube rolled over on the seat beside his knee, but he paid it no mind when he pushed in a third finger, this one dry. His gasp of “God…” wasn’t entirely staged. His head fell forward, and his shoulders dropped as he fucked himself on his own three fingers, still vaguely embarrassed, but almost wanton for it anyway.

“Come here, Galahad,” Caradoc called out to him. 

Eggsy groaned as he pulled his fingers out to follow the command. He wobbled briefly when his foot touched down on the floor, but he approached the other agent without a hesitation.

“Over the table,” Caradoc instructed, renewing the flush of humiliation in him. They intended to fuck him, he realized, right here on the Round Table, probably one after the other. The thought alone made him whimper as he did as was told. He pressed his chest to the table and his forehead as well to hide his face just as he felt Caradoc’s fingers grip his hips. “You shall hold yourself back, my dear, until we have all taken our fill of you, do you understand?” he asked, and Eggsy answered a meek, “Yes, sir.”

And then a cock was pushing into him, slow but steadily, and once more the nature of his situation came to the forefront of his mind.

They intended to make him the office slut. To be used when and where they wanted for whatever reason they wanted to use him for and in whatever manner. 

What liberties would he be allowed in this arrangement, he wondered. Would he be allowed to veto certain actions, to have a safeword? Was it just the agents or would Har--Arthur permit others the same privilege?

Caradoc’s cock held no answers, though, as it plowed its way through Eggsy's arse, slow at first with accompanying pats of reassurance to his hips, but soon enough, Caradoc had Eggsy crying out for him as his hipbones slammed into the edge of the table.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, however. Far from it actually. With each thrust of the cock into him, Eggsy felt his world narrow down to that single point of contact. The eyes on him faded into the background, and his humiliation for his new role moved toward the back of his mind until he was pushing back when Caradoc was pushing forward.

When the man above him stilled, Eggsy knew he had spilled out his orgasm into him, filling his arse with his come. It was then that the world came back into focus and he remembered the men and woman watching him writhe like a whore in front of them.

“Go on, then,” Caradoc urged, tapping Eggsy’s hip to encourage him towards Gawain beside him. His voice was vaguely strangled as he slumped back down into his seat, spent and sated, but unlike him, Eggsy still had a job to do, and it seemed he wasn’t going to be permitted rest.

He slid over toward Gawain who caught his waist and dragged him over the rest of the way. Within seconds, another cock filled his sloppy, used hole, sliding in in one smooth thrust and making him cry out.

Like Caradoc, Gawain took his fill of Eggsy’s arse, pounding into him like he cared little about Eggsy's own pleasure, only going so far to remind him not to come. And then Eggsy, sobbing and moaning, was filled with another load of come and passed onto the next knight.

Tristan pinned Eggsy’s hands behind his back and threaded one hand into his hair so that he could pull Eggsy’s head up off the table.

“Keep your eyes open,” he commanded, gently, sensuously, so that Eggsy, caught up in the pleasure of the thrusts of his cock, readily obeyed. His eyes met Arthur’s appreciative ones, and he found himself wondering how well Harry’s cock would fit his arse.

Suddenly, a white light filled his vision and all his nerve endings flared up with pleasure when Tristan’s cock _rammed_ into Eggsy’s prostate, and Eggsy fairly _screamed_.

The world faded into a haze of bright light as Tristan repeated the motion over and over and over again and only the pain from the hand in his hair held him firmly grounded to the Earth and reminded him that he wasn’t yet allowed to come.

He sobbed, he begged for relief, for Tristan to come so that he could be spared the torture that was the denial of his orgasm. It neared him, taunted him, and he _begged_ them all for mercy.

Then in the next moment, he was being pushed and shoved around the table, put on his knees, and a cock filled his mouth to silence him.

He looked up at Bors who cradled his head with both hands and kept his jaw pried open with thumbs digging into his cheeks.

“You are lovely on your knees, sweet boy,” he murmured gently even when his cock thrust so far into his throat that it threatened to pull out all the contents of Eggsy’s stomach. Eggsy's awareness once more zoomed in in his effort to keep his stomach at bay. His vision verily clouded at the corners until it was only Bors’ face that filled it. “I’d make you crawl for me whenever I have you,” the bigger agent promised, and then told him to “Keep their come in you.”

He choked repeatedly on Bors’ cock, humiliating gagging sounds that he was unable to control, lost as he was, falling out of his mouth and tears streaming out of his eyes, until the man had taken his fill of him. When he came, it was over Eggsy’s face and cheeks and eyes and lips, the latter of which he absently licked while Bors patted his head and nudged him over.

Roxy, next in line, stroked his chin to gain his attention and patted the surface of the table.

“I’ll have your mouth on me another time, but I think Percival, Geraint, and Bedivere would appreciate a little show since they can’t have you just yet.” She laughed when Eggsy nearly unconsciously licked at the fingers near his mouth, and she pressed a kiss to his mouth in reward. “Up here, Eggsy,” she said, patting the table once more, so Eggsy complied, climbing onto all fours on the table, facing Harry who watched him in silent, but obvious interest.

Was he a gentleman in bed, Eggsy wondered? Or was he a beast? He would bet the latter if the way Harry’s eyes darkened at him implied. Vaguely, he felt in him an eagerness to find out.

“Sit on your heels,” Roxy said, cutting into his thoughts. “Spread your legs, Galahad… Wider... More than that... Good boy.” In this position, he couldn’t keep his arse clenched and thus felt the come in him drip steadily out his hole and onto the table beneath him. He wondered what punishment he’d be given for it.

“Touch yourself, Eggsy, make yourself come,” Roxy cooed. “Show us what a good boy you are.”

Oh, Eggsy _was_. 

He had his hand on himself in half a second, stroking himself furiously, and with his other hand, he cupped his balls, cradling them and squeezing gently. He moaned loud and rocked into his fist, playing it up for them because he was good. He wanted to be good.

His eyes were shut, but he felt their gazes on him. They made his skin tingle and heightened his arousal. He felt like a proper slut in all the best of ways and could bemoan only that his arse was empty and clenching around thin air.

And then Harry murmured softly, barely anything above a whisper, “Come now, darling.” It washed over Eggsy anyway like a blaze, and he came spurting over the lacquered wood, screaming as he came.

He hunched in on himself as his cock twitched in his hands. Little whimpers escaped his mouth while he tried to catch his breath, but he had no capacity, nor will, to prevent them.

When his singing nerves finally settled, Roxy spoke once more, tutting before she did.

“You’ve made such a mess, Eggsy. I think you should clean it up, don’t you?”

Eggsy blinked at her, the words not registering in his mind just yet, and when she gestured between his legs, he realized she meant the come splattered across the table.

He didn’t need further instruction. He simply moved back on the table, bent over, and found Harry’s gaze. Sure that Harry wouldn’t look away, Eggsy darted his tongue out and slowly dragged it through the mess of come that had leaked out of his arse, lapping it up while he maintained eye contact with his boss much like a cat lapping at a bowl of milk.

Harry's lips parted as he watched Eggsy lick up and swallow every droplet of come on the table. Eggsy did so meticulously, dragging his tongue over the polished wood and leaving a trails of spit in his wake until the boy was right in front of him, looking at him expectantly.

Harry reached out and stroked his come-stained cheek. “My lovely, _darling_ boy,” he purred in praise and affection. Eggsy turned his face into Harry’s hand, licking at the bare skin of his palm. “Such a sweet, obedient thing. Look at how happy you’re making us.” Eggsy moaned in assent, though he did not turn to see the knights’ approval, wanting instead to climb into Harry’s lap and fuck himself on his cock, but waiting for the command that would let him do so.

“Please,” he begged. “Please, sir. I want--”

……………

“Eggsy! Eggsy!”

Eggsy’s eyes snapped open, and he felt a second of disorientation. The room was no longer bright like he expected, but dark around him, and he realized he was staring up at his bedroom ceiling where he was laying down on the bed instead of kneeling on the Round Table.

Harry’s face came into view a moment later, looking both concerned and amused at the same time, and Eggsy burst into a harsh blush.

“Still?” the older man asked, amusement finally winning out at the sight of Eggsy's red face. “Should I be concerned that you’re fantasizing about getting buggered by the entire Round Table? On it, even?” Eggsy shoved him.

“Shut up. It ain’t my fault what my subconscious chooses to think up,” he muttered. Harry only laughed and nuzzled the back of his neck when he pulled Eggsy back up against him.

Then he whispered in a low, dark tone, “I could arrange it if you’d like.”

So Eggsy jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

“Shut up, you wanker,” he snapped playfully with laughter in his tone. “The moment you lend me out to anyone else is the moment I know you’ve been replaced by some evil twin.”

“Too right, darling boy,” Harry agreed. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t make believe.”

Eggsy laughed and wriggled his arse against Harry’s rapidly filling cock. “Maybe later, yeah? How bout you just bugger me tonight 'fore we get back to sleep?” And who was Harry to deny him that?


End file.
